


Let's Take A Chance, Shall We?

by XxWolfOfNightxX



Series: The Tragedy of Tragedies [2]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Guilt, Regret, Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 13:19:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12607528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxWolfOfNightxX/pseuds/XxWolfOfNightxX
Summary: Mark invites his friend to play a game.





	Let's Take A Chance, Shall We?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for liking my first story, Ten Hours! I didn't think it would be liked that much. So, I decided to write some more! Here we have the moment where Mark is officially killed and the angst that comes with it.
> 
> Once again, this is a piece of a series of stories I want to make surrounding the events of Who Killed Markiplier. Some will be with canon events, and some will be from my headcanon and personal theory before we got the explanation during the livestream.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Everyone was thinking about how strange Mark was acting. After the nefarious disaster with his wife, it practically seemed like Mark had just dropped off the face of the earth. Few had actually heard from him, and those that did only did so for a short time. However, those people could all tell you that something was off about the man. He seemed both paranoid and extremely confident at the same time. People starting theorizing about what happened to him. Was someone after him? Did something good finally happen to him? Were spirits involved? With these thoughts swimming through everyone’s heads, it was a great shock when a certain group of people received an invitation to a poker night at Markiplier Manor.

 

It surprised the colonel when he got his invitation.

 

It surprised him even more how gracious of a host Mark was acting when everyone arrived.

 

However, what surprised him the most was when Mark pulled him to the side and asked if they could talk privately.

 

The colonel knew that this couldn’t be good. There was only one reason why they should talk privately, and the colonel hadn’t come here to discuss that. Mark reassured him though that it wasn’t about any of that, so he agreed.

 

If the colonel only knew then what would happen down there in that cellar, he would’ve trusted his gut initially and said no. But alcohol tends to have a way with messing with his decisions, so who knows.

 

* * *

 

Mark had grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen as the two descended into the cellar. Ironic, considering that that bottle was already almost empty.

 

It was cold down there, the colonel noted. He knew usually wine cellars tend to be a little chilly, but somehow it felt as they stepped down into the cellar that almost all of the warmth was drained from his body.

 

“Looking chilly there, need something to warm up?” Mark asked, holding out the bottle of wine.

 

“Could always go for a drink,” the colonel replied. Taking the bottle and tipping it back for a drink.

 

Mark smiled, as he was the only one not drinking that night. He was more than happy to oblige a drink for a friend though, as they would surely pay him back for it.

 

They two sat down at the small table while the colonel drank. After a few minutes the colonel had finished the bottle. Even sitting down he still felt woozy while handing back the bottle to Mark.

 

‘How many drinks have I had by now?’ he thought for a fleeting moment.

 

“Hey Colonel, would you like to play a game?” Mark asked.

 

“A game? What kind of game?” he said.

 

“Something that lets us build back trust in each other,” Mark replied.

 

“Oh no, I didn’t come here to talk about THAT. I won’t do it. You’re lucky I even came at all,” the colonel slurred out.

 

“Oh come now, it’ll be fun! We aren’t gonna talk about what happened. No, not at all. We will play this game, and let fate decide. If we win, then we will let everything between us go and we can go back to how we were before. How does that sound?” Mark asked.

 

The colonel thought it over for a moment. Deep down, he would like for things to go back to the way they were before. He would like to be friends with Mark again. But with Mark’s fame, he didn’t know if he should. Would Mark leave them all behind again? The colonel had felt really good when he and Celine had run off together. It finally felt like a stab back at him for all the wounds he gave them on his climb for fame.

 

“Oh c’mon Colonel, let’s take a chance, shall we?” Mark asked.

 

Of course he had to say that. Mark knew that the colonel was a competitive one after all and that he couldn’t resist a challenge.

 

“Alright fine. What game are we playing?” he asked.

 

Mark chuckled and stood up. He faced the colonel and before he knew it, he had taken the colonel’s gun. In a drunken haze, it took the colonel a moment to realize that Mark was holding his weapon. The world seemed to slow as he tried to get up and take the gun from him. He saw as Mark emptied out the chamber except for one bullet. He then saw as Mark spun the chamber, stopped it, then pointed it right at the colonel’s chest and fire.

 

A click.

 

The colonel stood there, breath ragged and sweat lining his brow.

 

“Bully,” was all he could mutter.

 

Mark had just tried to take his life, hadn’t he? Why the hell would he even play it like that? The whole point of Russian Roulette was that you were doing it to yourself.

 

But Mark only smiled and held out the gun to the colonel.

 

“You turn,” was all he said.

 

The colonel tried to compose himself before taking the gun from Mark. Mark stood with his arms outstretched, the empty bottle of wine still in his hand.

 

“Go for it, Colonel,” he said.

 

The colonel took a deep breath, pointed the gun at Mark’s chest, in the same fashion Mark had done to him a moment ago, and pulled the trigger.

 

BANG.

 

A look of shock came to Mark’s face, though it did look like one of those stereotypical ones you’d see when someone is trying to overact. However, the sounds overwhelmed the colonel more than Mark’s expression did at that moment. The wine bottle fell out of his hand and crashed to the floor. The ringing in his ears continued as Mark’s body crumpled to the floor.

 

“No...” the colonel said.

 

The colonel shook as he looked at Mark’s broken body. He could see where the bullet had went through as blood started to pool around him.

 

“M-Mark! B-Buddy c’mon!” the colonel said, hurriedly crouching down beside Mark.

 

“No, this couldn’t have happened...T-This was supposed to resolve everything! Fate couldn’t have let this happen..” he said, trying to find some sign that Mark was alive.

 

Later on Damien would be upset that the colonel acted like he didn’t care about Mark’s death. Oh, how wrong he was about that. The colonel might bottle up the emotions later, but for now he would let the tears of guilt and shame pour out.

 

He had hated Mark, but he didn’t want him dead. They had grew up together, lived in this house together for many years. They were practically brothers. Even if they had a falling out, they would eventually come back together.

 

But not this time.

 

Surely the others upstairs hadn’t heard what had happened. No, they were all too drunk themselves to pay any attention.

 

With that in mind, the colonel decided that hiding the body was the best course of action. The experience had sobered him up, but not completely, so there was no good decisions to be made here. He hide Mark’s body in a secret compartment in the cellar. It used to be a place where he or Mark would stay during games of hide and seek. Now, this would be a place where a body would stay hidden forever, or at least that’s what the colonel would hope for.

 

He would wonder the next morning how the body had managed to be moved to where they were partying. This house had strange things like that happen a lot.

 

He managed to sneak some supplies down to clean out the blood with help from the chef. He did owe him one, being army buddies and all. He then took those supplies and threw them out. They wouldn’t be found, for now at least. Too bad there was still something important that they had forgot to clean up.

 

The colonel went back upstairs to join the others, partially to create an alibi and partially to drink away what had just happened from his memory.

 

After all, life is for the living, isn’t it?


End file.
